


Just Breathe, Derek

by DarkAthena (seraphim_grace)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sentinels & Guides, Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, Bottom Derek Hale, First Time Bottoming, M/M, Sentinel/Guide, Sentinel/Guide Bonding, Stiles is 17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 10:09:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11355279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seraphim_grace/pseuds/DarkAthena
Summary: When a Sentinel found a Guide that they were compatible with, and really really liked, they would go into a frenzy where they imprinted the Guide into their memory to serve as a kind of anchor, so the Guide was given the ability to pull the Sentinel out of a state where their senses overwhelmed them, or they became fixated on one of them.So, by placing them in a bonding suite, where they were surrounded by sense neutral confines, beige walls, sentinel friendly furnishings, scent and noise neutralisers, dimmed bulbs, they could imprint in peace.





	Just Breathe, Derek

 

“Is this normal?" Sentinel Noah Stilinski asked Guide Argent when he was told, for the eighth day in a row, that his son was, yet again, not leaving the bonding suite that the tower had placed him and his new Sentinel in. 

“Unfortunately,” Guide Argent said, closing the folder on his desk and standing up. He had not expected Sentinel Stilinski to burst into his office, but, at the same time, it was not unheard of. Sentinels were closer to their rage and most bonding experiences only lasted two or three days, and it was best for the new bond, and everyone else in the vicinity, if it was done in private in scent neutral confines, “they’re not ready yet.”

When a Sentinel found a Guide that they were compatible with, and really really liked, they would go into a frenzy where they imprinted the Guide into their memory to serve as a kind of anchor, so the Guide was given the ability to pull the Sentinel out of a state where their senses overwhelmed them, or they became fixated on one of them.

So, by placing them in a bonding suite, where they were surrounded by sense neutral confines, beige walls, sentinel friendly furnishings, scent and noise neutralisers, dimmed bulbs, they could imprint in peace. The more scent neutral the area the quicker the process took, sometimes it took a little shorter, sometimes a little longer, but three weeks was a little excessive.

But at the same time Sentinel Hale was a Prime Sentinel and mostly they didn't meet their Guides, the one person they decided was most compatible with them in the entire world, in a shopping mall and have to be sedated and airlifted to the tower because the Guide in question was considered latent and was only seventeen and the Prime Sentinel managed to burn through his Guenidine, throw said latent Guide over his shoulder, barricade himself in a dressing room and bit the arm of one of the security guards who had tried to tell him that they had contacted the local tower and that someone was coming to take them to a bonding suite.

“They weren't "ready yet" two weeks ago, I have been coming here every day to collect my son so I can try and get him back into school, and as far as I can tell he’s been holed up in your bonding suite, is there a problem, is there something you're not telling me? Is he hurt?”

“No!" Guide Argent blurted it out, “he is fine, Sentinel Hale could sooner cut off his own hand than hurt him. It's just,” Guide Argent scrubbed his hand over his face and beard with a long exhale and sighed. “This is something unusual, Sentinel Hale is very powerful, he is an Alpha Sentinel, it means that when he loses control he does so in a more explosive manner. I explained this all to your son, we arranged for him to wake up before Sentinel Hale when we sedated them, he was rather determined that he had been kidnapped and didn't quite understand it all, I understand he was latent.”

“Where is my son?” Noah enunciated it. "I was bonded, the entire thing took two days. I’m sure that you, Guide Argent, had a similar experience.”

Guide Argent pulled a face, the one that suggested he knew what Sentinel Stilinski was saying, and he agreed with what Sentinel Stilinski was saying however his hands were tied and he couldn't do anything about it but wait and try to mollify Sentinel Stilinski. He had a job to do and that job was making sure Sentinel Stilinski didn't get hurt interfering with this bonding, or that he didn't end up with another Sentinel running naked through the Tower chasing a phantom threat to their guide. Once was enough for that.

“Your son was bonded to a Alpha Prime, that makes things,” Argent paused, “I’ll be honest, I have no fucking clue how long this will take, I do know they are monitored, I do know your son is wearing an alarm bracelet and has alarms all over the bonding suite, just in case, and if he presses that alarm, or the bracelet registers his heart rate as being accelerated above the usual parameters the entire room will be blanketed in a sedation mist. Everything we can do to make sure both Sentinel and Guide come out of this fine we are doing, the room is safe worded as well, so both of them can bring out the gas too.

“This is not our first bonding, Sentinel Stilinski, but it is our first Alpha Prime and we're playing it by their timetable, the same way that the Tower would have for your bonding, the way it did for mine.” He walked to a cabinet behind his desk and pulled out a square bottle and placed it on the desk, before going back for two glasses, “but I also have a daughter, a Sentinel, who is about the same age, I do understand your concerns.” He poured two glasses and handed one across to Sentinel Stilinski.

“You're a what, two sense D rating?” Argent continued, sipping his bourbon, “my Sentinel is about the same, she’s hearing and touch, and in comparison to her I might as well not have any sense receptors.”

“I have taste and smell," Sentinel Stilinski said, finally sitting down in the desk.

“An alpha sentinel has all five senses, and a Prime has them rated A, to put that in perspective an E rating has twice the vision of a non-sentinel, a D rating, like yourself, has twice the vision plus twice the vision of the E rating. Sentinel Alpha Prime Hale is A rated on all five senses, and rather than his guide being an anchor to remind him of his humanity, he is more like a beacon, an entire lighthouse in a sea of darkness. And I don't know how long it's going to take, I know they're eating, food goes in and empty plates come out, they're showering and changing the sheets, which is more than I expected, but we have to work to their timetable.”

Sentinel Stilinski sighed, aware that Guide Argent was trying to guide him with his empathy, and feeling that tickle against his Guenidine dampened senses was reassuring even if he didn’t want it. He had been taking the drug since his own Guide died seven years before.  “He's seventeen and he’s been in there for three weeks.”

“I get it," Guide Argent said, “I really do. We have the entire Sentinel Nation watching to see how this plays out because no one thought the Alpha Primes would ever find a truly compatible guide, and well," he emptied his glass. “I would love to be able to give you the two of them, I really would, it’s been three weeks," he was just as exasperated as Sentinel Stilinski about the entire thing. “We’ve gone through more laundry in those three weeks than we have in the last three months, I actually had to go to the drug store myself yesterday, and you get some damn strange looks when you're buying five maxi sized bottles of lubricant because the Tower's stores are used up. They gave me a box of single-use packets free because I spent that much on the company card.

“I didn’t think I could be embarrassed in a CVS anymore, I have a wife and a daughter, I have no shame when it comes to these things, tampons, pads, menstrual cups, creams for thrush or vaginosis, nothing bothers me and I was embarrassed, I spent over five hundred dollars on condoms and lubricant, I cleaned them out, because they have cleaned us out- The entire tower. I had to restock.

“Then there is the meal replacement shakes, they didn't last three weeks, and it's another three weeks before I get another shipment in, they’ve been getting food. They're not supposed to get food, Sentinel friendly high fat meal replacement shakes, so as not to upset their stomachs but full of calories.

“I actually sent in a fucking trifle yesterday, because the kitchens were making it as dessert and it's high fat and easily digestible. If you think you can get them out of that room go for it, I’m done. I get it, I'd be half mad with worry if it was my daughter, but we are doing all we can, and I get it doesn't seem like much, but our hands are as tied as yours. We can't send someone in case Sentinel Hale takes it as a threat to his Guide whilst he's sense-drunk, and if they’re not ready, they’re not ready.

“Yes, these things normally take days, we’re prepared for days," he poured himself another glass of bourbon and emptied it, “right now all I can do is say go home, and I’ll call you if it looks like they’re going to come out.” He groaned, "I've been on duty since they've come in, I've not been home either, next time we check in with Guide Stilinski, I’ll ask him if he has a message for you, but believe me, Sentinel, we’re doing all we can.”

 

—-

 

They'd actually managed to get dressed today, that’s how close that Stiles got to leaving the bonding suite, then as Derek was buttoning up his shirt he said something, and there was a bit of a grin on his lips and that was it, they were kissing again and clothes were in the way. They were so in the way neither actually bothered to remove them. 

Stiles didn't even remember what it was that Derek said, just that all of a sudden his fingers were in the fabric of Derek's shirt and fumbling with the buttons whilst they pressed their mouths together, trying to press themselves together closer. “I can't," Stiles protested, "I really really want to but I can't,” this was said between kisses as Derek kissed at his neck, licking and scraping the skin with his teeth like Stiles’ neck wasn't already a high collar of hickeys. "Oh man," Stiles protested as he dug the tips of his fingers into the meat of Derek's shoulder. Derek was as covered in bruises as Stiles himself was. “The spirit is more than willing," he groaned into Derek’s mouth when it came up to meet his, “but the flesh is weak, abraded and kinda sore.”

Derek sucked the lobe of Stiles’ ear into his mouth, biting down just lightly enough that Stiles ground his hips into Derek's. “Derek, please," Stiles said, “a moment to think," his hands didn’t stop stroking up and down Derek's arms, “I had to ask them for something today," he buried his face in Derek's shoulder as he said it, "I had to ask them for some cream, for down there," Derek was chuckling into his shoulder, “they gave me a butt plug to put it on with," Derek growled and Stiles wasn't sure it was because he liked the idea of Stiles plugged up or because he hated the idea that something other than himself was inside Stiles.

“I’m sore, I’m sure if you tried to put a stick of butter up there right now it would feel like it was wrapped in sandpaper.” They’d had three weeks locked alone in the room with nothing to do but talk and have sex, and Derek actually seemed to like it when Stiles spoke before his mouth caught up.

Derek laughed, “well how about you fuck me instead?” he said as he pushed his hand down Stiles briefs, sentinel friendly cotton jersey, and started to toy with the plug in his ass. “Give this," he twisted the plug, “a rest.”

"I hate you so much right now," Stiles told him, as Derek,  sat against one of the tables in the centre of the outer room to their bonding suite, one that the staff had been using to leave food, knowing the inner room could be locked and they could work, now they had taken over what Stiles had been calling the airlock for their fucking. They’d gotten that close to being able to not touch each other long enough to actually leave the suite.

Derek was grinning, and Stiles loved to see him smile like that, it wasn't an expression that he found comfortably.

“Have you ever?” Stiles asked, he was stood in the space between Derek's legs, Derek had lost his trousers somewhere, but had kept his briefs, and socks, and for some reason, although Stiles had been raised by the media to think of the sock gap as a genuine thing, he found it really sexy.

“Never wanted to," he shrugged, “but I want to with you.” With one hand Derek was scratching through the hair at the back of Stiles’ neck, which he had learned almost turned Stiles’ knees to jelly, and the other lightly tapping against the plug in his ass. “Do you want to?”

Stiles was, by his nature, loquacious, he talked, a lot. He talked in his sleep; he talked when he drove; he talked in the shower, and Derek liked to hear him talk but in that moment every word that Stiles knew vanished from his head. It was as if a great trapdoor was in the back of his head, where Derek was scratching, and he had unlatched it for all of his smarts to fall out. He made a noise, it was an unmanly noise which started off as a word and ended as a squeak like his voice was breaking all over again and Derek just laughed.

It was a whole body laugh, “you like the idea then?” he asked.

Stiles tried to speak again. He impersonated a goldfish for a few long moments. "I thought it was something we’d do eventually," he admitted, “that I'd be able to talk you around, you're a Sentinel, you’re..."

Derek put his finger to Stiles’ lips, “gendered nonsense, you're a Guide, not a girl, I know that, I've spent the last however many days quite enjoying that you are not a girl, you are my guide," there was a possessive growl to his voice as he spoke, “mine, and if that means I want your cock in my ass I’ll tear the throat out of anyone who argues," he sucked another bruise on Stiles’ jaw, “with my teeth.”

“Sentinel Alpha bullshit," Stiles said, “thinking I’d want you with bloody teeth.”

Derek rocked his hips forward, “like you haven't thought about it.”

Stiles gave him a shrug, he didn't want to admit that he hadn't thought about it but was certainly thinking about it now. Who knew that he would have a thing for his Sentinel, his, and that was so new and wonderful and unexpected that he kept catching on the idea, being vicious and almost feral.

Derek was an Alpha Prime which meant his senses were jacked, but it also meant he was closer to feral than most sentinels, and he was stronger, faster, because he was an Alpha Prime, so he could carry Stiles about like a stuffed toy, which also kinda did it for him, “do we have any lube left?” Stiles asked, because sometimes he had to be the practical one, it wasn't often and he didn't expect Derek to get used to it, “because that cream they gave me isn't very slick.”

“A few of those single use packets," Derek admitted, "I want to do it here, though,” he said, “want to lie back on this table whilst you open me up, so the next time they bring us our meals we know that we fucked there, that you fucked me there." Stiles made the noise again, he couldn’t help it, and the more he made it the more Derek laughed, and Stiles wanted to make Derek laugh so he wasn't as mortified as he had been when they started this and Stiles made the noise to every sex act that Derek suggested.

Stiles had gone to the mall a virgin with a latent guide gene that had seen him unfit to even be trained, and ended up in a bonding suite with an Alpha Prime Sentinel who was quite content to do things to Stiles' body, with his consent, that pretty much made sure that no part of Stiles could be considered virginal anymore - take that Jackson Whittemore who had been teasing Stiles about that just before he had actually gone to the mall where he had met his sentinel, his.

He might have been as possessive as Derek was.

And what had truly surprised Stiles, because when he had first woken up, with Derek still sedated in the bed beside him, Guide Argent had told him a lot and given him an information packet to skim through which told him that Derek was taciturn and he was not to be offended if he was preverbal for at least the first few hours, some sentinels became so when in the bonding madness, as he called it - was that Derek talked, and he listened, and he laughed, and there was time they would lie in bed doing nothing but talking, with Derek pressed up tight inside him, draped over him like a blanket, playing with his earlobes with his fingers as he tried to memorise the texture of the skin, including the divot where Stiles had had his ear pierced and then took out the stud after it had healed because he slept on his side, at least at the start, and it stabbed him in the back of the head.

Derek listened and talked, and he was clearly delighted with Stiles, as if he had won the lottery and he told him so, often, and not just when they were fucking.

So Stiles wanted to make this special for him, he wanted to make it as good for Derek as Derek had made it for him, and that made him nervous, even with Derek leaning into him, his weight supported by the table, and his heat leeching through the air between them and his fingers, one hand in his hair and the other, in his briefs, tapping lightly on the plug Stiles wore.

“Can I, can I eat you out?” Stiles asked, stammering through it.

Derek rocked forward, unto his feet, and slipped his briefs to the floor, before climbing back onto the table to lie with his feet on the wood and his knees bent, “can you reach me like this?” he asked, “or do you need me to turn over?”

It was kind of awe inspiring the sight in front of him, Derek lay across the table like a masterpiece, shirt open, wife beater rucked up, cock erect and balls taut, hairy thighs spread and feet and ankles covered in black wool.

"I,” Stiles started, reaching out to run his hand over Derek's cock, just a light stroke because he wasn't sure what else he should do with his hands, “I,” he sort of stumbled forward, between Derek's legs to kiss him, to shove their mouths together. They had hoped that the mating frenzy had calmed, but Stiles wasn't sure it was ever going to end- this wanting.

Derek was cupping Stiles face, fingertips against his orbital bones, and mouth sucking against Stiles’ own, whilst Stiles’ stroked his hands up Derek’s side, up under his shirt, pushed up his wifebeater to expose his nipples. He was spread out like a feast and he was Stiles’ to devour, and it made Stiles feel powerful.

The media made out that Guides were soft, almost feminine, they were there just to keep powerful, Sentinels fed and make them look more masculine in how they protected their Guide, but the reality felt very different. He suddenly wanted to take his favourite Sentinel novel, in which a Sentinel went rogue to eliminate the terrorist organisation that killed his guide, and throwing it out of the window as a bunch of hokum.

Derek needed Stiles as much as Stiles needed Derek and that puffed up his ego like he was a peacock.

He moved down Derek's body, placing laving kisses, the ones that Derek liked, on each nipple, just enough that they were wet and would contract in the air of the mating suite, before kissing his way down his sternum, not touching his stomach, because Derek didn't like that, and placing a few, wet, slobbery kisses on the head of his cock, then trailed the tip of his tongue, pushed into a point, down the vein on the underside of his cock, and then sucked first one ball, then the other, into his mouth, nosing into the more sparse hair there, before spitting into his hand, with what saliva he had left, smearing it around and using his wet palm to lift Derek's balls up, rolling them around a little as he did so, as Derek groaned out a “fuck.”

“Do you need to dial down your touch?” Stiles asked, licking his lips, “is it too much?”

Derek reached down and grabbed his wifebeater in his hands where he had been clutching the desk so hard it was creaking and stuffed it in his mouth before letting his head fall back down. Content that Derek would say something if his senses would spike, Stiles watched as Derek put his hands under his thighs and opened himself up, baring himself entirely to Stiles.

Stiles bent down, taking a deep breath through of his nose before he laved his tongue over the muscle and listened to Derek groan.

Stiles ate Derek out with gusto, enjoying the way Derek squirmed under his tongue, making noises into the fabric of his wifebeater, so Stiles spread his hands on the place on Derek's thighs where they met his ass, that wondrous crease, and held him open even more so he could get more of his mouth there, laving and sucking and even scraping it with his teeth, before spearing his tongue against the muscle, opening it to his mouth.

Derek was hot and tight inside, and groaning and trying to press his ass further into Stiles’ mouth and Stiles doing this to him, Stiles himself was so hard it almost hurt, but he wanted to keep doing this, he wanted to bring pleasure to this man spread in front of him, he wanted to take his time and learn him in the way that Derek had spent the last three weeks learning him, inside and out.

“Use your fingers,” Derek said, spitting out the fabric, “open me up for your cock.”

That was when Stiles realized that although they had lube it was in the basket by the bed, which was all the way across the room. “Hold that pose," Stiles said, moving back and half running half falling across the room to get to the basket, “thank you Guide Argent for getting us more lube," he said as he scrabbled across the floor to get back to him, “he’s like the infamous lube fairy," and laughed at his own joke, aware that he really needed to get his head into the game, as it were, followed by his brain singing the song from High School Musical, “gotta, gotta getcha head in the game.” He never claimed to be consistent in this, even he didn't know how his brain worked sometimes. And Derek clearly saw it because he chuckled.

Seeing Derek and knowing that he was an alpha prime Sentinel, one who has all five senses rated A, people immediately assumed he would have one of those deep masculine voices, like Jason Statham, all gravel, and gunpowder, but his voice was surprisingly soft, a tenor, not a baritone. “Come here,” he said, and Stiles’ jaw dropped and with it, the lube fell to the floor, so he had to bend down to pick it back up, although the packets seemed as slippery as their contents he was that fumble fingered.

He managed to get back across the room and dumped the packets, he must have picked up at least ten, on Derek's stomach, and Derek' laughed as they fell to the desk on either side of him.

Stiles picked one up and tore it open with his teeth, “ick, honey flavored," he said scrubbing his teeth over his tongue and then squeezed the contents over Derek's ass, it was cold so Derek hissed on contact which made Stiles apologetic and even more panicky.

“You're not going to hurt me," Derek said softly.

Stiles made a noise of protest but Derek cut him off quickly, “when I fingered you and I caught you with my nail what did you say?”

“Ow,” Stiles said.

“And I stopped straight away, and I know if I say stop you will stop, I won't let you hurt me," Derek said, “at all, I trust you to do this,” Stiles pursed his lips together, “give me your hand.”

Derek took his hand off his thigh, but didn't remove it from under his leg, holding his leg up without the help, and took Stiles’ hand, fumbling about so he could hold two fingers out and curl the others underneath. He rubbed the tips of his fingers against the slick that was dripping down Derek's taint, and then pressed them against the furled muscle, which gave under the pressure and then the tip of Stiles' fingers were inside where it was hot and tight and clutching, and Derek's eyes widened a moment at the breach, but luckily Stiles didn't see it because his eyes were fixed on the point where he was penetrating Derek.

“Go on," Derek said and pushed down with his hips, rolling back onto Stiles' fingers with a groan, “it's good.”  Derek used his hand to pull Stiles’ fingers back and push them back in, making circles to loosen the muscle.

Stiles was speechless, perhaps for the first time in his life.

“You can do more," Derek said, and his voice was ragged, his hips rolling back, “use another finger.”

“I need more lube," Stiles said, and Derek didn't contradict him, more was better and if it made Stiles more comfortable he was happy to be a little squelchy. It was the word that Stiles had used when Derek had been a little eager and used nearly a whole tube in Stiles’ ass after the fifth time that day when he accidentally squeezed the tube a bit too much. It was hard to think about things like lube when Stiles was sucking on his balls.

Stiles made a triangle with his fingers, took another packet of the lube and ripped it open with his teeth, pouring this one over the hand still in Derek's’ ass, pushing the lube inside, and rubbing around to spread the slick. “Feels good,” Derek reassured him, head back and mouth open, “oh, just there, there.” He tried to angle Stiles' fingers so that they would touch there again, “do you see it, my Guide making me feel so good, look at it, you’re making me so proud, so good, it’s so good.”

He was red-faced, and his wifebeater was rucked up under his armpits, his shirt open and one of his socks had slipped down around his ankle, he had one hand holding up his thighs, and the other was holding Stiles’ wrist, “so good, Guide, so good.” He wasn't capable of saying much more.

Derek had never really investigated his ass, as a Sentinel sex was problematic for him, he could easily lose himself in a fugue but Stiles' scent was in his nose, and his heartbeat was in his ears, and the taste of him in his mouth keeping him grounded, even the feel of him twisting his fingers inside him.

Stiles picked up another packet of lube, tearing it open so there was a burst of artificial honey scent and then Stiles did something Derek could not see, a wet slapping sound, that suggested he was slicking up his cock, and Derek let go of Stiles' wrist, reaching out for it, to bring the head of his cock up against his wrist.

Stiles swallowed as he pushed his cock into Derek's hand, the angle was new but this they knew. “I," Stiles started but Derek pulled him forward, pushing him against where the fingers of the other hand were stretching him open.

“You're so good for me, so good for me,” Derek said, and lifted his legs to rest them on Stiles’ side, “my Guide, mine," and with that Stiles pushed the head of his cock inside and Derek moaned, he couldn't help it, and Stiles made a sort of high pitched noise and sort of fell forward, putting his hands around Derek's waist and lunged forward with his hips, he couldn't help it, and Derek just moaned into it, as Stiles started to stutterfuck into him, too new, too nervous to do anything this, but damn him if it didn't feel good, there was some stretching but no burning, Stiles had used too much slick for that, and it was squelching creating a wet slap slap slap as Stiles drove his hips into him.

There was no finesse, little more than Stiles jackrabbiting into him as Derek groaned and clutching Stiles' forearms to try and pull him in closer, to pull more of him inside because it felt so good, this was his Guide, his, and he was rubbing up against this place inside him that felt like magic and fugue and frenzy all in one go and Derek was so close, his cock heavy and hot and wet on his stomach, smearing trails of precum, “so close," Stiles stammered.

"Me too," Derek groaned, “more, just a little more.”

Stiles came with a wail, slamming his hips hard into Derek as if to push himself inside even further and then sort of fell forward into a kiss with Derek, Derek's cock forgotten between them for long moments whilst they kissed, but then Stiles slid backwards, and took Derek's cock in his mouth like he was hungry for it, his hand, slick circling the bottom and the very touch had Derek arching up off the desk with a cry, then falling back when the orgasm was done with him.

Stiles sort of fell to his ass on the floor looking up at Derek as they both panted for breath.

“So yeah," he said finally, “that happened.”

“Yeah," Derek agreed, a little breathlessly, “and it’s going to happen again," he added on as a caveat. He wanted to reassure Stiles that it had been good, even if he felt a bit empty now, and definitely squelchy. There would be time to refine technique later.

They were quiet for a few minutes, letting their brains unscramble and sharing the silence in an intimacy that Stiles could not have imagined but Derek was glad to experience with him. “D’ya think," Stiles began, “tomorrow?” he left it open meaning that they might leave the mating suite tomorrow. They'd be together for life, but they could see his dad and get back to normal when they were out.

“Yeah," Derek said, “maybe tomorrow.”

 

 

 


End file.
